


Celebrating the Anniversary of Your Birth

by berusama



Series: Lessons [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-02
Updated: 2009-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berusama/pseuds/berusama
Summary: Jim learns that even if he wants to pretend he doesn't have a birthday, no one else is going to.





	Celebrating the Anniversary of Your Birth

In all honesty, it was just really poor timing. Jim hadn't _planned_ on being docked above Earth the week before his birthday, but the engines needed a good cleaning after that cloud of space-whatever they'd passed through a month ago, and they wouldn't be closer to another port for awhile. It was logical to stop by Earth's moon for a check and a clean. Fucking logic.

His mom had of course known he was going to be docked because she still had the habit of abusing her Starfleet vet privileges and listening in on all Earth frequencies in her spare time. So when she'd messaged him and tentatively suggested an early birthday celebration, he couldn't exactly say no. His mom had always been good about throwing birthday parties for her boys, but it didn't take Jim long to realize that his parties were never on his actual birthday. Something always came up, but it was never a problem for Jim until she re-enlisted and sent him and Sam to live with her brother. That she couldn't even _call_ him on the actual day of his birth was something Jim grew to resent.

But he'd grown as a person since then. Now he was a Starfleet captain, and mature and shit. Plus he'd taken the call from his mom when Spock was in the room and he couldn't think of a reason to decline that Spock wouldn't be able to refute and thus blow his cover.

"It is fortunate that our mechanical problems have brought the _Enterprise_ so close to Earth before the anniversary of your birth," Spock had said once he'd disconnected.

"Yeah," Jim had agreed, mustering a smile that Spock probably couldn't tell was fake.

So here he was, about to knock on the door to his mom's old farmhouse. It opened suddenly before he could even put his fist to the antique wood.

"Hi, baby," Winona said, a wavering smile on her face, and Jim could no longer think of a single reason not to be here.

"Hi, mom," he said, and then she was hugging him and all he could do was hug back.

They didn't talk about the past that weekend. It was the first time he'd been home in five years, but she didn't apologize and he didn't accuse. They ate replicated cake, and talked about his ship and his crew, and her new job and the new guy she was seeing.

"He's a good man," she said -- assured him, it felt like -- so Jim smiled and said he'd like to meet him sometime. Of course there was no time for such meetings before Jim had to be back on his ship, but it was the sentiment that counted and they were both aware of that.

She drove him to the shuttle station Sunday morning and pressed a box into his hands as he was getting out of the car.

"For tomorrow," she said with a small smile. They both knew Jim didn't have to be back for another 24 hours, and she could give it to him on his actual birthday if she wanted to, but that wasn't their way and Jim had accepted that by now.

"Thanks mom," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

She kissed him back and said, "Bye, baby," her voice soft and almost sad. Jim thought about offering or maybe even asking to stay for another day, but she prepped the car for vertical lift so he closed the door instead and boarded the shuttle.

Jim looked at the box as he waited for take-off. His mom had never seen him open a gift on his actual birthday. It had always been days before when he was young, and then mailed to his uncle's house when he was older. He was tempted to just open it now, but that wasn't how it was supposed to go, so he refrained.

He did shake it, but the sound it made wasn't one he immediately recognized. When the neighboring passenger gave him a funny look he smiled to himself and carefully set the box below his seat.

\- - -

Spock was not confused, despite the fact that his fellow crew members seemed to think he needed this evening's plan explained to him multiple times. He had, in fact, experienced a surprise birthday party before. Granted, at the time it was only this mother and father in attendance, and only his mother had shouted 'Surprise!' when he had walked into the room, but the sentiment had been the same.

In less than twenty Standard minutes the captain would return to the _Enterprise_ , at which time Spock would meet him in the shuttle bay. He was to then lead the captain to the mess which had been temporarily converted into a party hall. It had been made very clear to Spock that he was, under no circumstances, to reveal the reason that Jim was needed in the mess, as if Spock did not know or understand the meaning of the word 'surprise.'

"So what are you gonna say?" Sulu asked, standing precariously on a chair as Spock handed him some adhesive.

"I inquire as to whether he has eaten yet and then suggest we walk to the mess hall for an evening meal," Spock replied for the fourth time tonight. Apparently the surprise aspect of this party was more important than Spock had understood at first. Nearly everyone involved in planning it seemed obsessed with making sure Spock didn't spoil it before the captain had even arrived.

"Good," Sulu replied, straightening to asses his work. The streamer hung artfully from the ceiling to the floor. "Looks good. I think we're almost ready." Spock nodded. He had learned by now that Humans often required meaningless approval in frequently superfluous arenas.

"Spock are you ready to go get the captain?" McCoy called from across the room.

Spock turned and before he could stop himself, replied, "I am, doctor, but since everyone here has questioned my preparedness, perhaps it is believed I am not the ideal candidate for this job. Would you like to appoint someone else?"

McCoy frowned at him. "No. You're the only one who's actually cleared to be on the ship right now because you're a damn workaholic. If anyone else showed up it'd be a dead give-away. Even if you don't want to be here, you're the logical person to send. You can leave after you get him here."

Spock watched the doctor go back to arranging the table full of brightly wrapped presents and felt his own brow furrow. Was that the reason everyone insisted on testing his preparedness? They perceived that he would not be interested in attending the party and thus uninterested in keeping their plan a secret? It was an interesting line of reasoning, and not without logic: he was not known for his attendance at ship-wide extracurricular events.

He nodded, though the doctor was no longer paying him any attention, and proceeded to the shuttle bay. The crew's perceptions of his thoughts and actions could wait. Jim would be arriving soon.

 

 

The shuttle bay was cool, well even cooler, compared to the rest of the ship and Spock shivered involuntarily as he watched Jim's shuttle pass through the gravitational force-field keeping the bay safe.

Jim grinned at Spock as soon as he jumped from the shuttle, carrying a small black bag and a brightly colored box.

"Commander," he greeted, coming to a stop quite close to Spock.

Spock could feel his body heat and unintentionally leaned closer to it, "Captain."

"How's my girl? Has Scotty reported in yet?"

"The _Enterprise_ is fully functional again, though I have not seen Mister Scott, if he is indeed aboard already." It was not a lie because Spock had not actually _seen_ Mr. Scott in the mess hall earlier. The engineer had been busy "procuring drinks" at the time, though from where he was going to find beverages besides the mess hall was a mystery to Spock.

"That's strange; I'd have thought he'd be aboard by now."

"Indeed," Spock agreed and then plowed ahead with, "are you in need of nourishment?"

Jim looked at him from the corners of his eyes, a slow smile curving his lips. "Am I hungry?"

"That was the question," Spock confirmed. Jim's smile broadened then, and he nudged Spock.

"Sometimes when I'm gone I forget why exactly I'm missing you, and then I see you again and it all comes back."

Jim began to walk and Spock turned in step with him, so engrossed in trying to decipher the captain's meaning that he did not realize Jim had not answered his question until the lift opened to deck 4, and the officers' quarters.

"You are not hungry?" Spock asked.

"No, I'm good. I just gonna drop this stuff off and then go to the bridge for a bit."

Spock floundered for something say, following Jim down the hall. After a few steps Jim turned and looked at Spock as though he were behaving strangely. "What's up?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I was planning to eat my evening meal now," Spock said, though there was no logical reason Spock's eating schedule should in any way effect Jim's.

After a pause Jim asked, "Are you trying to ask me to have dinner with you?"

"No," Spock amended quickly, "I merely thought that-"

"Because I will," Jim interrupted him just as quickly, "You just have to ask."

Spock looked down briefly, fully aware of the Human implications inherent in requesting the presence of another during a meal. But if it would get Jim to the mess...

He looked up again and raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry. Jim got the message and smiled.

"Let me just put these things away," he said, and then disappeared into his rooms.

Spock had no time to assess the situation before Jim was back, and then they were making their way to the mess hall. In the lift Spock contemplated stopping their movement and telling Jim the truth, but then they were exiting the lift, and then entering the mess hall.

"That's strange," Jim said when the lights did not turn on upon their entrance. "Computer, lights."

The ensuing burst of noise and action was enough to make both Jim and Spock take a step backwards. As the masses swarmed towards him, Jim turned to Spock. His face was a mix of many emotions Spock could not read, but in his eyes was a very clear realization that Spock's invitation had been a part of this plan. And although he did not seem hurt or offended, Spock ached very suddenly and very briefly over the misunderstanding.

When the press of bodies around Jim became too much for Spock, he moved quickly and quietly to the far side of the room. From there he watched the crew and the captain mingle and eat and eventually dance.

Spock had not known that Jim was someone who was willing, let alone able, to dance. But as he spun Nyota out and then in again, this much was obvious. He caught himself staring at the sensual sway of Jim's hips and looked away.

There were only so many other things to look at, however, before Spock's eyes were back to Jim and his graceful movements. Even as he danced absurdly, in a successful attempt to make Janice and Nyota laugh, he danced with the confidence of a man who knew just how to move his own body. The emotion pressing on Spock's mind was not envy, so he pushed it down firmly and almost welcomed McCoy's presence when he sat at Spock's table.

"Hell of a party, huh?"

"Indeed," Spock agreed absently.

"I'm surprised you're still here," McCoy said, swirling his drink. "Thought you'd have left as soon as we turned the lights on."

"Yes," Spock agreed again, "As did I."

\- - -

It was around 0200, ship's time, when the party started winding down. Jim bid his crew members good night with a little more enthusiasm than his complete sobriety warranted, but he was allowed just this once.

"Spock!" he enthused, grabbing his first by the shoulders. "This was a great party."

"I am pleased that you enjoyed yourself."

Jim nodded and returned Spock's stare for a moment that was perhaps a little too long. "You headed off to bed, then?"

"I am. Do you also plan on taking your leave soon?" Spock asked, and Jim couldn't have kept the grin off his face if he had wanted to.

"Yeah. Walk me home?"

One of Spock's eyebrows raised minutely, but he didn't comment. He did that alot these days, Jim had noticed. Used to be he'd blink next, like Jim was possibly mentally deficient, make a painfully obviously note-to-self about Human idioms and then turn away. Jim couldn't really remember when the comments had stopped, but he liked that they had; liked to pretend that he and Spock were really getting to know each other better. Or something.

Jim shook his head and turned towards the mess hall doors. The degree of his satisfaction in hearing Spock's quiet footsteps follow was perhaps a bit ridiculous.

"Night, Bones!" Jim yelled as they crossed the threshold, and laughed when the doctor's head shot up from the table across the hall.

"So," Jim said, as he settled back against the lift wall. He glanced at Spock from the corner of his eyes and purposefully shot his first officer a mischievous smile. "Did _you_ have fun tonight?"

Spock held his gaze as he answered, "Please define 'fun'."

Jim laughed as the lift doors opened, and let Spock get away without answering his question.

They made the rest of their way in silence until they were back at Jim's door.

"Deja vu," Jim said. Spock faltered visibly and Jim wondered if this was about to get awkward.

"Jim, I wish to apologize for my earlier deception regarding the nature of my request for you to accompany me to the mess hall," Spock began and Jim mentally grimaced.

"Don't worry about it," Jim said, trying to sound as understanding as possible. It wasn't a strong suit of his.

Spock opened his mouth like he was about to start arguing, so Jim lifted a hand to stop him. It was a gesture Jim had discovered awhile ago and it never failed to halt whatever train of thought Spock was entertaining and get him to really listen.

"I understand why you did it. I know you don't like to lie. I didn't take it personally," Jim said as calmly as possible, and only felt a little bad about lying immediately after acknowledging Spock's distaste for it.

Spock's eyebrows came together and even though Jim's hand was still up between them, he said, "It was a deception, yes, but nothing I said was a lie."

That gave Jim pause. He furrowed his own brow, trying to remember exactly what Spock had said earlier. But now that he thought about it, the only thing he could remembered Spock saying was that he didn't want to eat dinner with Jim. "Right," he said, still trying to remember specifically what had been said, "Never mind, then. My mistake." He turned towards his door to make a break for the significantly less-awkward solace of his rooms when Spock spoke.

"Your mistake is understandable," he said, leaning into Jim's space to catch his eye. "I have not been clear." Jim waited, but when Spock said nothing he turned back toward him.

"Look, Spock, we're not the type of people who don't say exactly what they mean. So do you want to have dinner with me or not?" He didn't mean for it to come out so forcefully, but Spock merely blinked at him, not taken aback at all.

"I do."

They stood facing each other for several beats as Jim's heart-rate jumped. That was some fascinating new information.

"Alright," Jim agreed, not quite knowing what he was getting himself to but still willing to see where this would go.

"Perhaps tomorrow evening?" Spock asked, calm as you please.

"Sure," Jim agreed again.

"Very well. I will see you in the morning." And with that he was gone, off down the hall to his own quarters. Jim stood watching him go and refused to think about how badly this could end.

Back in his room, Jim looked at the box he had set on his bed. Technically it was two and a half hours into his birthday, so opening it now would be acceptable. He sat next to the box and after a moment picked it up and set it on his lap. It wasn't particularly heavy, but the sounds it made every time he shook it were strange. He waited for as long as he could stand before tearing into the wrapping paper and opening the recycled shoe box.

He stared at the contents of the box for a full minute, not quite breathing, and scared to reach inside. The letters were jumbled together from all the shaking he had done to the box, but it was clear which one he was meant to read first. Picking it up, Jim gently opened the envelope and removed the single piece of his mom's coveted stationary. Jim could still remember the time he had drawn all over several pieces, not understanding at the time the value of paper, let alone this stationary. Winona had been terribly upset until he'd claimed all the pictures were for her, and then they'd stayed stuck to the replicator until she'd reenlisted.

 _Jimmy,_ the letter began in his mom's unfamiliar writing.

_I don't know what makes this birthday any more appropriate for you to receive these except that I wrote them from space and now you're probably reading them up there while I'm down here on Earth._

_It's not fair for me to have kept these words from you for so many years, but I hope you can forgive me some day. There's an envelope here for each of your birthdays. At first they had been a cute idea, a way of talking to a future you, but by the time you were old enough to appreciate them, I was gone and I'm not sure that the content of these is anything a nine-year-old should have read anyway. I'm not even sure if I want you reading them now, but it's a little late for that._

_All I can ask is that you try to understand where I was at those points in my life and remember that I love you, Jimmy. I always have and I always will._

_Happy Birthday, baby._

_Love,  
Mom_

Jim couldn't remember the last time he cried, but he had a feeling that if he read any more of these letters it would be tonight. Still, he tucked the paper back into its envelope and looked for the one that was dated 2234.04.

It was late and he was exhausted, but nothing at this point could have kept him from this.

Pulling off his boots, Jim got a little more comfortable on the bed and opened the next envelope. This letter was several pages longer and the script was different: softer, and somehow slower. Jim took a breath and began to read.

_Happy first birthday, Jimmy..._


End file.
